We Remember Grenfell — But They Still Reward the Guilty

Eight years on from Grenfell, the banners go up again. Green hearts. Thoughtful quotes. Hashtags of remembrance. The sector remembers — but only once a year, and only on its own terms.

Let’s be clear — if remembrance meant anything, accountability would have come by now.

Instead, what we’ve witnessed is a culture of celebration — even as the sector remains structurally unchanged. Survivors are still fighting for justice. Residents are still living in unsafe homes. And the institutions at the heart of this crisis remain intact — unpunished.

£39 Billion — For Who, Exactly?

Last week, the Chancellor announced a headline-grabbing £39 billion package for social and affordable housing. It’s being hailed as historic — the biggest investment in decades.

But who is it for?

The same housing associations, developers, and consultants that oversaw system failure are the ones now preparing to cash in. The same organisations that ignored tenants, dragged out complaints, cut corners, and kept dangerous homes off their risk registers now find themselves in prime position to benefit — again. The same people who happily profit from the not-for-profits, who echo the same tired rhetoric, are again rubbing their hands with glee and greed, ready to take their bite of the filthy lucre!

There’s no talk of excluding those who failed. No requirement to demonstrate reform. No consequence for wrongdoing. It’s many of the same players, running the same game.

While tenants fight to get basic repairs completed — while families breathe in mould and wait months for fire doors that shut properly — the senior leaders responsible for managing this chaos move on. Not into disciplinary hearings. Not into courtrooms. But into new roles, new boards, and new LinkedIn promotions.

In housing, failure doesn’t end careers — it writes your next reference. Some may have to fall on the sword, but when they do, an appreciative sector rewards them with a top role within an association, away from the public glare — somewhere to sit out the years before retiring with a nice pension and payout.

That’s why so many senior executives remain unaccountable. The system doesn’t just tolerate mediocrity — it rewards it. Staff at every level see it. Residents live it. And yet, the merry-go-round continues.

And all the while, those responsible stay on the inside. They chair panels. They write the next set of safety standards. They give keynote speeches at conferences on “lessons learned.”

Watering Down Safety

Even the very regulations brought in to prevent another Grenfell are being diluted. With every amendment, every delay, every softly worded guidance note, the rules become a little less clear, a little less enforceable.

What starts as “never again” ends in “let’s be realistic.”

Instead of strengthening protections, we’re watching them erode — just slowly enough for nobody to notice, and just quickly enough to keep costs down.

Where Is the Outrage?

So, where are the prosecutions? Why haven’t the people in charge faced real consequences?

The answer is uncomfortable. Because this sector has found a way to protect its own. Because mediocrity has become a safe place to hide. And because those at the top know the worst they’ll face is a rebrand — not a reckoning.

This is what happens when regulation is weak, institutions are intertwined, and resident voices are sidelined.

Enough Is Enough

We’re told the sector is “on a journey.” But what if that journey is just a loop — PR, funding, failure, repeat?

It’s time to break that cycle.

Remembrance without justice isn’t remembrance at all. It’s reputation management.